Seven Years Difference
by LifesDarkFire
Summary: What if friendship between Meg and Erik began when they were children? Would love blossom between them, or would the circumstances of broken hearts and an age difference of seven years form a chasm between them? Let the story begin.
1. Devil's Child

LifesDarkFire here with my second Meg and Erik story! I'm very excited to say that it is going to be a chapter story and I am posting the first chapter in honor of finishing my first year of college.

I owe thanks to the reviewers of my first story Monsieur Yo-Yo for asking me to expand on the oneshot which led me to starting this story. I've kept the basic facts and feel for the characters but have changed the age and how our two main characters meet. As for how it ends, you'll just have to read to see. I hope you enjoy this and thank you again to all reviewers of Monsieur Yo-Yo for inspiring me.

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**Chapter 1: Devil's Child**

Julienne Giry at the age of sixteen knew that she shouldn't have given in to the younger ballet rat's excitement to go to the gypsy carnival; she also knew that if they were caught swift and harsh punishment would be brought over them. Even though Julienne was fully aware of her fate, she followed her fellow cohorts down the dark passageway and through the small gate that hid the secret tunnel of the opera house from the public's gaze. She shivered against the night's cold air, winter was coming and in her rush had forgotten to bring a coat with her, and she added catching a cold to her growing list of reasons why she should not be going to the gypsy carnival.

Julienne turned to go back to the safety and warmth of the ballerina dormitory but was caught by two of the younger ballerina's who dragged her with them. "Come on Julienne stop being such a bore!" one exclaimed as she quickly removed Julienne's hair pins that contained her hair in a tight bun. "Let your hair down!" her other captor exclaimed through giggles finding her metaphorical and literal pun too much to handle. Julienne gave up her struggle and nodded in assent as they quickly ran to catch up with the rest of the group.

The gypsy camp surrounded, engulfed and abandoned the senses; fires lit the night throwing shadows on the ground that many claimed were the devil himself. Julienne found herself pressing closer to the group of girls her hands clenching in anxiety as many men leered and flirted openly with the young women who proved all too easy prey.

"Maybe we should go." Celeste, a young girl at the cusp of her thirteenth year, suggested timidly as a man caught the edge of her skirt and gave it a tug. Julienne nodded in agreement as she tried to fight her way from the throng surrounding their group. "Wait!" another ballerina, Isabella cried. "I wish to see the Devil's child!" Julienne's eyes widened in fear as she grasped the small cross that hung from her neck and whispered a quick prayer, suddenly she found herself being pushed into the swarm of Parisians clamoring to enter the tent which held the supposed Devil's child.

Inside the tent it was dark, and the smell of death hung in the air, in the middle of the darkness there stood a small cage in which an animal was emitting small sounds of whimpering that reminded Julienne of the cries of a child. She shivered and hugged herself wondering what sort of beastly ordeal had she been dragged into, when suddenly a man's face lit by a blazing torch loomed out of the darkness. Julienne's breath caught in her throat believing that he was the Devil himself; she clutched her cross tightly in an attempt to ward him off with the golden amulet.

"Come to see the Devil's child have you?" he roared to the crowd which screamed in fear and delight. "Well you'll get your money's worth," his voice dropped to a whisper as his face leered in front of Julienne, "and more my pet, and more." She tossed her head back as he reached out to touch her cheek. He laughed in a brazen voice at her actions and turned once again to the crowd as Julienne shuddered revolted by the brash gypsy man who smelt of strong whiskey. He walked slowly to the animal which lay withering on the straw covered floor, grabbed at its arm and pulled it up to stand, and the crowd gasped at the realization that it was a child they saw. They could see nothing of its face because it was covered by a coarse sack, with only an opening for its eyes. Julienne's throat closed at the thought of a child being abused in such a way, and fought to contain the tears that swam beneath her closed eyes.

"Quickly, quickly gather round to see the Devil's child! Throw your coins through the bars, that's it come on! You've got to pay to get a look!" The gypsy cried as the crowd began to push forward to the bars of the cage. Julienne found herself pressed closely against them and struggled against the crowd, desperate to get away from the gypsy, the carnival and its madness. The gypsy ripped off the sack covering and thrust the child into the front of the cage where it was met by curses from the crowd, screams from the women and an onslaught of coins thrown purposefully at his face. Julienne erupted into tears when she saw the poor boy, ridiculed because God had given him a horrible deformity, this was no Devil's child, just a young boy with a scarred face. The child said nothing; his eyes remained on the ground, as his hands clutched a small toy, a stuffed monkey, to his chest. After what seemed like an eternity to Julienne the gypsy man pulled the cloth sack over the boys head again. The crowd grumbled with the loss of the Devil's child and Julienne felt the pressure on her back slowly decrease as people left the dark tent to see other horrifying exhibits; she looked around for her fellow ballerinas and panicked when she could not find them. Julienne ran from the tent never glancing back at the poor child who was cuffed and then thrown to the floor.

Julienne ran swiftly trying to catch a glimpse of her friends but still could find no trace of them, in her panic she reached to her throat to grasp her cross but felt nothing, not even the thin golden chain she hung it with. Her mind thought back to the tent and she ran back to it, determined to find her precious heirloom.

Julienne ran into the tent her eyes searching the ground for anything that faintly glowed in the darkness, she saw a faint hint of gold by the cage where she had stood and stopped to brush away the dirt that had accumulated, it was there that she found her beloved cross. Sighing with relief Julienne placed it carefully in the hidden pocket of her dress patting it twice for safety when her eyes were suddenly attracted to the cage. The boy stood in the middle of the cage his hands held tightly over a piece of rope as the gypsy man struggled to find his breath, the boy lifted his head to the darkness outside the cage and his their eyes met. He dropped the rope quickly and cowered in fear expecting Julienne to start screaming murder, but was amazed to see her walk slowly up to the bars where she signaled him to be silence as she placed a finger to her lips.

"The keys, can you reach them?" she whispered, pointing to the circle of metal that hung off of the now unconscious man's belt. The boy nodded as he scrambled to the man's side and deftly took the keys off, his eyes glittering with tentative hope. Julienne reached through the bars and took the keys from the boy's hands their hands brushed briefly and she saw him flinch at the brief contact. Tears filled her eyes once again, this boy reminded her of someone, lost in her memories of the past. She flitted to the door of the cage and carefully unlocked the gate motioning quickly to the boy who stared in complete disbelief at the young woman. "Come! I know somewhere safe! Just hurry before he wakes up!" Julienne hissed.

The boy merely nodded grabbed his toy monkey and carefully made his way down the steps of his cage on shaky legs covered in bruises and dirt he took his first steps on solid ground. Once Julienne was sure he had gained his balance she took his grubby hand in hers and slowly lead him away from the only life he had ever known, and into a new one bathed in Parisian moonlight

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Thank you for reading please review! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, hopefully I'll have the second chapter up soon I know that good feedback about this chapter will encourage me to continue.

-LifesDarkFire


	2. One bath, two stories, and a name

Thank you to my reviewers! Your reviews really make my day when I read them! I will try to update frequently since I am now enjoying summer break. In a few more chapter Meg will be making her debut appearence! Now I am pleased to present Chapter 2.

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Chapter 2: One bath, two stories, and a name.

Julienne said nothing as she half dragged the boy away from the gypsy carnival increasing her pace as she heard distant screams of, "Devil's child!" mingled with, "Get him!" She never heard the child protest as she forced him along the uneven cobblestones without a rest, without any answers. She looked down sometimes only to be met with eyes that took her breath away; even in the shadows of the sack Julienne could see they were abnormal, they glowed deep amber when the moon hit them. She wondered if the boy would continue to amaze her, but amazement was pushed back into her mind as they neared the opening to the hidden gate. Julienne clasped her golden cross in her pocket for a quick prayer and showed the boy to his new home, the Opera Populaire.

Once they were safely deposited in the bowels of the opera house Julienne let go of the boys hand and laughed in triumph. "Little one you are never going to be a prisoner again!" she cried as she gave the boy a brief hug. She pulled away quickly when he stiffened at her touch; a frown now replaced her triumphant smile as she knelt down in front of him. When they were eye to eye she said, "My name is Julienne. What is your name?"

The boy's golden eyes filled suddenly with tears at her question as he stubbornly looked away. Julienne waited silently fixing her attention on placing her golden cross once again on her neck. Her attention was diverted when she heard the boy begin to talk.

"I- I.." he hesitated and she could tell from the rough timber of his voice he was not used to talking. "I have no name mademoiselle." He rushed his sentence and went back to looking intently at his toy.

Julienne sighed resisting the urge to crush the boy in a tight hug. "Well, do you know how old you are?" The boy nodded this time and she was surprised how he could not know his name, but knew how many years he had been alive. "Giovanni, my captor, always gloated I had been in his care for five years. My mama he said had died and he found my by her body. Giovanni always gloated about how my mama must have been trying to get rid of me, since I was the Devil's child; he said my mama hated me." Wet tears began to fall on the top of the monkeys head as the boy tried to stifle his growing sobs. Julienne wrung her hands helplessly not knowing how to comfort the crying boy in front of her, who seemed to reject any sort of human contact.

"Did your mama make that for you?" she asked softly pointing at the ragged toy he held close to his body. The boy nodded and hugged it tighter.

"Well," said Julienne as she got off her knees and began to brush her skirt, "a hot bath, a good meal and a story will having you feeling better. Come, take my hand." He hesitantly took her hand as she led him up a series of ladders to a small bathroom. She took a fluffy white towel, a large bar of soap, a small pair of pants, a shirt, and a mask from the costume equipment, she hid the mask behind her back knowing she would only use it if forced to. She came back and quickly filled the tub with warm water looked at the boy and nodded, "This," she said pointing at the bathtub full of water, "is a bathtub it will get you clean and-"she was cut off quickly by the boy, "I-uhm- I know how to bathe." He said quietly looking once again at his bare feet in embarrassment. "Oh, well I'll leave you to your devices then. Just come out into the hallway when you're done." With that Julienne was out of the bathroom and on a mad dash to the costume area for a pair of shoes.

The boy stared at the large bath full of steaming water cautiously, he could only remember taking a bath once in his five years of life, and that had not been a good experience. It had not been a bath but a repeated dunking in a frigid running river to clear off some of the dirt on his face to make it more viewable to the paying public.

The boy hesitantly stuck his foot into the bowl full of water and shuddered at how nice the warm water felt against his bruised leg, he proceeded until he was sitting in the bath tub amazed. He took the large bar of what looked like white wax and curiously rubbed his hands against it. To his delight it was slippery and created the most pleasant looking clear, round circles which he would later find out were bubbles. A small chuckle slipped past his lips and his hands quickly let loose of the soap to cover his mouth, he hunched over afraid the young woman would come in a reprimand him for making a noise. After what seemed like an eternity to him he once again picked up the soap. He experimentally rubbed it against his arm and watched in wonder as the dirt quickly disappeared. Realizing that with soap and water he could actually become clean the boy soon lost himself to a wonderland of whispered chuckles and bubbles.

Julienne stood outside the bathroom door, her hair once again in her tight bun, and her eyes darting to the nooks and crannies in the shadows, she had not bargained for a child when she had gone out tonight but it was better than catching a cold she decided. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the soft click on the door being pulled open and in the small pool of candles was the boy free of dirt but still wearing that horrific sack. Julienne was glad that she had brought the soft white leather mask with her, this would surely be better than the sack.

She motioned silently for the boy to follow her and lead him deep into the underground of the opera house to a secluded spot only she knew about. It was here she practiced, and found the solitude needed to become an excellent ballerina and it was there that the boy would hide. "Here." She whispered producing the mask and shoes she had been carrying for him. The boy looked in wonder at both of the things she presented him; he slowly reached out for the mask and stroked it gently. "You can wear that if you want to, instead of your sack." The boy nodded eagerly and began to remove his sack once again until he remembered Julienne was watching him. She looked away suddenly interested in their surroundings giving him ample time to try the mask on.

She glanced back when she heard a sigh of relief and turned back and smiled at the boy. The white mask seemed to have been made for him, for it covered only half of his face which was deformed. The boy slowly smiled back, the silence between them was broken by the hungry growl of his stomach.

"Here," Julienne said as she presented the boy a large shiny apple which she had placed in one of her dress pockets. He snatched it quickly and ate in four large bites until all was left was the core. He looked sheepishly back at her and blushed at his behavior. "I'm sorry." He whispered holding out the apple core.

Julienne gave him a motherly smile and shook her head, "No that is good! You have a healthy appetite, good thing I brought these then." She produced a large chunk of cheese, a loaf of bread and two more apples, alongside a flask of water. "Eat slowly or you will regret eating for the next few days." She cautioned. The boy nodded in awe as he slowly began to chew one of the apples slowly savoring the tart taste.

"Now we have to give you a name, I cannot always call you boy." Julienne studied him closely as he ate his second apple even slower than the last. "What do you think of the name Erik?" The boy closed his eyes in thought for a moment and nodded, he had decided it was a good name.

"I once had a brother named Erik." The boy stopped chewing, as he looked up at Julienne somehow she sounded very sad. "Does he live with you?" The boy questioned as he tried to chew around a large bite of apple.

"No," Julienne said as she gave the boy a sharp look, "Erik do not talk with your mouth full." The boy newly christened Erik nodded solemnly, his face flushing a deep red at having been scolded.

"No," Julienne repeated, "My brother has been dead for a very long time. He died when he was only three, a mere babe." She whispered her hand automatically clutching her cross again. "You remind me of him."

Julienne laughed softly at Erik's shocked expression. "Oui, you and my brother were both … chosen to carry the Lord's blessing. His face, it was much worse than yours Erik."

Erik dropped the piece of cheese he had been nibbling on in astonishment. "Worse, than mine?" he asked in disbelief. Julienne nodded.

"Oui, he was born severely deformed and crippled he could barely walk, but he was the best brother." Julienne smiled at the memory, "He always liked to smile, he would sit in his chair in the sunlight and I would dance for him and oh how he smiled."

Erik listened entranced by Julienne's story, forgetting the food he watched her with his golden eyes.

"When my brother was born the midwife wanted to kill him, she said he carried the mark of the devil." Julienne shuddered at the memory. "My mama and papa they quickly banished her from their house and vowed to raise him as they would any son. I was three at the time and delighted at the prospect of having a baby brother, his deformities to me were a gift from the Lord and I loved him dearly. Those were happy times then, those three years he graced our lives. When he left this world, he became terribly sick, the doctors did not know what it was, but by the time summer came our beloved boy had returned to the kingdom in the sky. That is when I came here to the Opera House to study ballet, Erik always loved ballet, it made him smile." When Julienne had finished she wiped the tears that had leaked out of her eyes.

Erik slowly reached out his monkey to Julienne, in his own childish attempt to comfort her. She laughed weakly and hugged the toy to her as she cried out the forgotten pain of her childhood.

When the tears had dried she smiled at Erik once again and returned his toy to him with a grateful smile. "So you see why I had to save you, although you were already doing that yourself." Erik shook his head as grief filled his eyes, "I killed him."

"No," Julienne protested sternly "you did not kill him, you just rendered him unconscious. Did you not hear his labored breathing?"

This did not reassure Erik as she saw his lax hold on the monkey suddenly turn to a frantic clutch. "Do not worry Erik, you are safe down here. There are many tunnels, and hidden places, think of it… as a sort of playground. But be very careful, I will not always be able to keep you safe you must use your head." Julienne warned.

Erik nodded his eyes already studying the brickwork spotting several irregularities, he made a note of them determined to explore them later when Julienne was not around.

"There will be rules for you, your identity must be kept a secret for you to live here at least until the outside world will be able to forget about you. If I hear about anything bad," she looked Erik sternly in the face, "even if I see a glimpse of you when other people are around there will be punishment."

Erik's eyes widened in fear at the thought of punishment and Julienne's voice softened, "It is for your protection, you would like to stay here for a while oui?"

Erik nodded vigorously at the thought of having a home that wasn't a cage. Julienne smiled at his response, "I want you to stay here for tonight. Tomorrow as soon as I can get away I'll bring you more food and we'll explore the tunnels more and find you a suitable place to stay. Is there anything else you need?"

Erik's hands twisted against themselves as he tried to form the words to his question. "Ther-there is something," he stuttered, "I would like, I would like maybe a violin and some music?" He closed his eyes quickly and prepared himself to fight back the tears of disappointment. Instead he heard laughter.

"Ah so you are a musician than? I think I can arrange for that, I'm sure no one would notice if one of the more battered violins went missing and a few pieces of beginner music would be easy to come by. You would just have to be careful to not let anyone hear you practice but, oui Erik I will get the things you ask for, now please get some rest, I will be back soon."

She raised herself from the ground as only a ballerina could and quickly ran through the tunnel to the ballerina dormitory, hopeful she had not been missed.

She slipped into the commotion of the dormitory and sighed in relief to see most the younger ballerinas were still dressed over exaggerating everything they had seen; one piece of gossip caught her attention though.

"Did you hear the Devil's child escaped?" one ballerina cried in horror. She was quickly surrounded by a horde of girls demanding to know the answers.

"Oh yes, I heard he tried to kill the gypsy man who barely escaped with his life! When he woke up the gate was wide open and the creature was missing!" The girls gasped in shock. "He must be roaming the streets!" Another cried met by a piercing scream of fear from one of the youngest dancers.

Julianne had enough and she quickly raised her voice above the crowd, "Enough! If you continue like that Madame Sorelli will know where we all were this night. Go to sleep and stop your gossiping." She received a response of groans as the girls changed into their cotton sleepwear and slowly slipped under the covers. Celeste turned on her side to look at Julianne and giggled, "Your sounding more like Madame Sorelli every day. Perhaps someday we will be calling you Madame as you lead our young daughters!"

Julienne just smiled and shook her head, "Go to sleep Celeste."

Julienne then fell into a dreamless sleep, not knowing what life had in store for her.

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Did you enjoy chapter two? If so please review!

I did use the prima ballerina from Leroux's book as Julienne's dance teacher I only used her name because I could not think of one and Sorelli was easy to put in. I know some of you readers are wondering why I'm using Julienne as Madame giry's name instead of her real one used more frequently (Antoinette) but I really like the name Julienne and have decided to just keep it that way.

-LifesDarkFire


	3. A proposal, a Tantrum, and a Final Goodb

**Chapter 3: A proposal, a Tantrum, and a Final Goodbye**

Julienne flinched as another ink pot hit the wall beside her, and watched as ink slowly leaked down the wall calculating how much money had been wasted.

"You just wasted two francs Erik." She knelt down to gather the glass shards carefully in her spare napkin making sure not to prick her finger

against the sharp edges. She looked up to see that Erik was no longer there and sighed.

"Come now Erik, your six years old you should not have these … outbursts." Julienne said to the air around her. She took the handkerchief full of glass and wrapped it in securely into another and slipped the bundle into her pocket. The ring on her left hand caught the candlelight and she paused to admire the small diamond ring. She smiled at the memory of the last week-

_Philippe, a young man of twenty-one with the blonde hair and blue eyes of an angel had taken a fancy to her, simple Julienne a Parisian ballerina. They had met on the streets of Paris, their hands meeting as they both reached for the same piece of fruit. Julienne had blushed, while he laughed forfeiting the apple to her. He began to send her flowers and finally captured enough courage to pursue, court, and woo her. It was a romance that took her breath away and now a year later, a year older he had proposed to her, offering his life, and she gratefully took it. There was only one problem, one mar in her perfect plan; he was a sailor who lived in Dieppe she would have to forsake dancing, the opera house, and Erik for the rest of her life. _

Julienne was brought back to her thoughts as a mirror shattered deeper inside the makeshift house made of drapery. She admired Erik's

intelligence and wondered how at only six he had been able to make a home with only a few drapes. She did not wonder how or where he got his supply that was told in the missing candles, or ink pots, a stray piece of sheet music, a bolt of silk. Julienne tried to stop him from stealing but he responded logically how else would a poor ballerina or a six year old boy get supplies other than stealing? Julienne had assented to his logic, but admonished that he would have to find some way to make a living for she would not associate with a thief. Logic told her she was being hypocritical; did she not steal things for him when he escaped? Julienne tried not to listen to her more logical thoughts in times like these.

"Erik?" she called down the unlit hallway of silk and cotton doorways, she was answered by the sad cry of the violin. Julienne walked carefully down the hall until she came to a small room lit with the tiny stub of a candle. Erik stood in the middle of shattered glass his back to her, as his small shoulders trembled in emotion. The violin sat silent on the stool next to him while the music echoed in the small alcove he had made his home.

"Erik please tell me what's wrong! I thought you would be happy for Phillippe and I." Julienne whispered. Erik just shook his head as his shoulders trembled violently. She could not tell if Erik was crying or trembling in rage, Julienne had learned the hard way that Erik could be a very violent child; she had become very grateful for her ballerina training that helped her leap or duck before an ink pot or glass would come careening towards her.

Slowly, Julienne crept over to the child, her muscles tensed in readiness to jump out of the way of a flying object as she slowly placed her hand on his shoulder. "Why do you have to leave! This is your life! I was here first!" Erik shouted as he jumped up.

"Erik, Erik hush child hush. You've always known that one of us would leave first it just happens to be sooner than we thought." Julienne tried to placate the child as she grabbed his fists within her own trembling hands.

"It's not fair! Why do you have to go live with him, why can't he live here? You're a ballerina! You're THE prima ballerina, you're willing to give that up for a man?" he shouted.

"Oui, I am willing to give that up for him. I love Philippe and he is a sailor he must live by the sea, you must make sacrifices for love Erik."

"He's made no sacrifices for you!" Erik accused. "You're a dancer you must live by the stage to perform, is dancing not your life?"

Julienne sighed. "Erik dancing was my life until I met Philippe you will see, one day you will find someone who you will love more than music itself. You must know that he would not take me from the dance if he had to, we had no idea his brother would die out at sea. Philippe must take up the family business it will be a good lifestyle and Dieppe will be a good place to raise a child."

Erik shook his head violently. "Nothing will be more important than music. Music does not judge you, or call you the Devil's child!"

Julienne tried to shake her head in protest but even she did not hold onto hope that someone would see past his deformities, physical and mental.

"I leave in a week Erik." She whispered. He glared at her, his eyes glinting dangerously in the darkness. "Fine, you'll see Julienne I will bring this Opera House to its knees and you will come running back to me!"

Unshed tears glistened in Juliennes eyes at Erik's words, she feared for what the child would become, his innocence stripped so early in age. "I will miss you Erik." She placed her hand gently on the boy's face; he trembled as he leaned into her touch.

"Goodbye Julienne." He whispered.

"Goodbye…Erik." She said as she slowly made her way down the dark tunnel, the image of Erik clutching his toy close to his chest as silent tears streamed down his face was forever burned into her memories.

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How was Chapter three?

The town I used in the story may not be historically correct for the time period of the story, I looked up cities along the coast of France and that one popped up.

Meg will be appearing in the story next chapter so I hope you look forward to that. I'm sorry it has taken me so long to update but I was away from home on vacation for at least two weeks and haven't had much time to work on the story. I plan on updating chapter four in two - three days so you won't have to wait too long.

Thank you once again to my reviewers and anonymous readers! You are all amazing, I can't thank you enough for reading my story its a great feeling to know that people actually find it intresting!

-LifesDarkFire


	4. Little Meg

_Oh my it's been a long time! I'm so sorry but life caught up to me and I couldn't seem to find the time to sit down and truly write for this story. I also dabbled a bit in another story category so that didn't help anything. But, please do not give up on this story! I am fully dedicated to it again, and will see it finished. _

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**Chapter 4: Little Meg**

Julienne fidgeted as she paced the cottage's porch trying to scan the horizon for Philippe's boat, he was a week late and she was worried, the sharp cliff on which the house was set upon did not help her view. She rubbed her hands in slow circular motions around her belly smiling at the thought of the baby that resided there. It had been almost a year after their marriage that she had realized that life stirred within her, now her belly was swollen as she reached her ninth month of pregnancy. The baby kicked insistently against her stomach as if it sensed its mother's anxiety and gained some of its own.

"Hush little one." Julienne murmured as she slowly rubbed her hands around her belly. "Your Papa will be here soon, and you will be able to meet the world my little angel."

She looked outside again at the blue horizon, Philippe would come soon she thought. But that did not satisfy the voice in the back of her mind that continually repeated, '_You will come running back to me.'_ She missed the Opera House, and the ballerinas but nothing compared to the home and family she and Philippe were creating. He would leave of course, off into the distant blue horizon but would always return to her, and this time would not be different.

Julienne sighed and sat in the rocking chair Philippe had made her as a wedding present, and rocked slowly humming a wordless tune into the air around her and closed her eyes for the barest second.

Julienne's eyes shot open as pain coursed through her body. She viewed out into the darkness realizing how the hours had passed quickly, and how she was going into labor, alone. Clutching the golden cross she still wore around her neck she prayed that Philippe would somehow miraculously appear, she got off of the chair and slowly staggered into the house and laid on the bed. Julienne tried to time the contractions as she clenched the sheets tighter as one passed. In her muddled state of mind she had figured twenty minutes lay between each shocking bolt of pain, if only she could last until morning when the midwife would make her daily visit to see how she faired. "Hold on until morning my Angel." Julienne whispered in a ragged breath as another contraction stood as her answer.

"Will she be ok?" a worried voice asked waking Julienne out of her slumber. She smiled weakly up at Philippe who was clutching her hand as he questioned the midwife who calmly set to boiling water, collecting rags and other supplies.

"Oui monsieur, this is not the first birthing in the world, madame will survive." The midwife answered concentrating on a small package of herbs she had removed from her satchel. Philippe flushed slightly at her comment but did not answer as Julienne tried to laugh as a contraction suddenly racked her body and she flinched in pain.

"Julienne!" he cried as he gripped her hand even tighter worry shining in his eyes.

"Philippe she is right, I will be fine." Julienne whispered back smiling into his blue eyes. "I'm just glad you made it in time, I was so worried."

Philippe smiled back into his wife's gentle brown eyes, set in a face plastered by sweat and hair. "I am sorry my love, our ship hit a small storm just a few miles off of the shore we got in late last night and I got here just as the midwife did. I am so sorry you had to pass the night alone, I only wish I could have been here to comfort you."

Julienne reached up with her free right hand and brushed his blonde hair out of his eyes and smiled at how long it had grown when he had been away. "It is fine, you are here now an-" Julienne broke off as her mouth framed a wordless cry as an even stronger contraction came.

The midwife appeared at her side nodding, "Now drink this madame, it will help the pain. The baby is almost ready to come out, the contractions are coming quicker. Monsieur I want you to stay by her side, even though it is unorthodox." The midwife sniffed and went back to the fire muttering about stubborn husbands.

"I will not leave your side." Philippe whispered as he gazed down at his wife whose grip tightened as yet another contraction announced the baby was almost there.

It was not long after that a Philippe and Julienne Giry welcomed in a baby girl with wisps of her father's blonde hair and blue eyes, with her mother's delicate facial features. The happy couple gazed lovingly at their new daughter whose eyes blinked back tiredly.

"What shall we name her?" Philippe asked his tone hushed least he wake his sleeping angel.

"Sleeping like that, she looks like a daisy…" Julienne whispered. "We shall name her, Marguerite."

Philippe laughed in delight, "Perfect!" he cried but was silenced quickly as Marguerite shifted in her sleep. "Ah, my little Marguerite, my little Meg."

Julienne looked up at Philippe quizzically, "Meg?" she asked. Philippe nodded. "Oui it shall be her nickname, a pet name. I shall call her little Meg."

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_Now Meg comes into the story! I hope you liked the chapter, I wasn't very confident about it when I was writing and I still am unsure of how I feel of it. I will update chapter five in a few days because I've written the story up to chapter ten so you won't have to worry about an incredibly long hiatus again. _

_Please consider reviewing?_

_-LifesDarkFire_


	5. Inevitable Fate

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, I'm just playing with the characters a bit. I promise to put them back when I'm done.

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**Chapter 5: Inevitable Fate**

The years passed quickly under the curious gaze of Little Meg, who amused her father and was adored by her mother, she was an angel who snuck out of heaven they claimed. She grew quickly learning to read and write from her father, and learned the art of dance from her mother and before they could barely blink, Meg was seven.

"Hold your back up straighter Marguerite" Julienne commanded eyeing her seven year old daughter carefully studying her posture. Meg said nothing as her tiny muscles strained under the pressure as she tried to perfectly align her spine over her small hips as her mother had instructed her. Julienne glanced at the clock on the mantel and was surprised at her daughter's tenacity, nearly fifteen minutes had passed and she showed no sign of giving up.

The scraping of wood brought Meg out of her determined set of mind as she ran at the door while crying, "Papa, Papa!"

A deep chuckle emitted from Philippe as he quickly swooped Meg into his arms and twirled her around the small cottage. "What have you been practicing my angel?"

Meg put a finger to her chin as she pretended to think carefully, her blonde hair settled in disarray around her shoulders. "I have been practicing ballet Papa! I was standing very, very still." She stated solemnly.

"Ah, you're going to be a beautiful Prima Ballerina just like your Mama." He said as his twinkling eyes rested on Julienne who smiled back.

"Have you brought anything for me Papa?" Meg asked her tone childishly hopeful.

Julienne eyes narrowed, "Marguerite, what have I told you about selfish requests?"

Meg looked back at her mother dolefully, "That I should be happy with what I have and not ask for more Mama." Julienne nodded pleased by her daughter's answer. "But, if Papa has a gift for me it would be entirely impolite not to accept it," Meg stated hesitatingly and pressed on, "and I was not demanding something, I was just trying to help Papa remember since he must be tired from the journey."

Julienne raised her eyebrows at her daughter and laughed at the logic. "Fine, I will let this pass from my memory, but remember not to do it in the future." She warned a smile threatening to escape from her lips.

Meg nodded, and turned back expectantly to her father. "Ah, she has guessed correctly." Philippe said as he reached into his satchel and brought out two parcels wrapped in brown paper. "Gentle with these my angel they are very fragile." Meg watched intently as her father laid the two packages down, the first was a bulky triangle, the second a small rectangle. Her small hands quickly and deftly unwrapped the bulky triangle and she found a bouquet of slightly wilted roses, her childish laughter rang throughout the house as she clapped her hands. "Oh thank you Papa! Oh, roses!" Philippe smiled as he pushed the second brown parcel closer to her but her avid attention to the flowers could not be broken.

"Mama, Mama look at what Papa has brought! May I leave them here on the table so I can look at them in the morning, and during practice, and lessons?"

"Oui Marguerite here go fill this with water and we shall put them in here." Meg nodded and hurried out the door to the pump by the side of the house.

"How was Paris my dear?" Julienne asked as Philippe swept her into his strong embrace.

"Boring without you and Meg, oh how I missed you both. There was something for you, I returned back to the hotel room and found this addressed to you." He pulled a white envelope out of the bottom of his satchel and gave it to Julienne.

Her hands trembled as she saw her name, "Madame Julienne Giry" scrawled in the childish writing she knew too well. She began to tear the envelope open - when a scream brought it fluttering to the floor as she and Philippe both ran outside crying "Meg!"

The small ceramic vase that she had been sent to collect water in lay broken by the edge of the cliff and a pale hand clung desperately on its jagged edge.

"Mama! Papa!" Meg cried as droplets of the surf tangled with her blond hair.

"Hold on my Meg!" Philippe cried as he ran to the edge of the cliff and grabbed her wrist. "Now, give me your other hand." Meg slowly reached for her father's hand terrified at the thought of tumbling down into the unforgiving surf below. Philippe felt the ground he stood on begin to crumple and quickly pulled Meg up. He leapt to the side his body cushioning the blow to Meg's but it was too late, the rocky ground had already begun to crumble into the raging surf below.

Meg was safe, her body was small and she curled into the fetal position crying up the dregs of her very soul. Philippe's body now dangled off of the cliffs edge as he clutched dirt and pieces of rock. Julienne screamed at the sight and dove down into the harsh ground and tried to drag her husband up. She felt a deep pain in her leg when she hit the ground, her right leg impaled on a sharp and jagged rock. Paying no attention she swallowed the pain and tried to drag Philippe back up.

Their fingers slipped against each others, and when Julienne finally grasped his wrists she could not pull him up. Tears of anguish coursed down her cheeks as she fought back the urge to scream, she would not accept defeat. Suddenly small hands grasped her own writs and she saw her daughter trying hard to help her mother drag up the man they both loved.

Philippe's feet kept meeting air, and small bits of rock that broke off into the dizzying surf below. His throat felt dry as he looked up at his wife and daughter; somewhere in the depths of their hearts they knew that the task was futile. He felt his hands slipping out of Julienne's grasp, as a tortured sob began to slowly rise in her throat as she pulled with all of her force. Philippe tried to pull himself up but could not find the strength, tears falling down from his own eyes he whispered to them both, "I love you."

Julienne screamed as she felt their hands slip past each others; she quickly reached for Meg and covered her eyes. She heard the splash and convulsed as tears raced each other down her face until they fell atop of Meg's head, they stayed like that for a long time, both whimpering and rocking to the deadly beat of the surf below.

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_I like this chapter the least because I had to get rid of Philippe, who I've grown very fond of, but he needed to be sacrificed for the sake of the story. Our two main characters will soon be meeting in the next chapter or two, I hope you look forward to it. Thank you for reading, and please leave a review on your way out, I can not say how much they mean to me. _

_-LifesDarkFire_


	6. With Your Hand Upon My Heart

**Chapter 6: With Your Hand Upon My Heart**

It had been one day, only one day, but it felt like a lifetime to Julienne as she cradled Meg in her arms slowly rocking in front of the fire place on the very rocking chair that Philippe had made. It was a difficult process, her right leg still protested in pain when she put weight on it so she slowly pushed back and forth with her left foot.

Meg had withdrawn into herself and laid in a small ball in her mother's arms whimpering the occasional, "Papa." Julienne slowly stroked her blonde hair and whispered nonsensical words in an attempt to repair her shattered heart.

"Mama," Meg whispered bringing her face close to hers, "there is still the other package that Papa brought." Tears flowed down again as she lowered her head once more and clutched her small hand around the gold cross that Julienne had worn for almost all of her life.

"Oui, Marguerite, my angel come bring it to me, we shall see what he brought." Meg slowly brought herself to the table and carefully brushed the now dead roses as she brought her hand around the package. Her foot stepped on the white envelope Julienne had dropped in haste, Meg also picked this up and brought it to her mother and sat by her feet. Tears came again to her eyes as she looked at her mother's leg, and remembered what the doctor had said. It had been a torn ligament in the knee, she would be lucky if she could walk with a slight limp for the rest of her life, her mother the Prima Donna of the Opera House would never dance again, her Papa was dead and Meg knew, it was all her fault.

Julienne placed the package in her daughter's hand again, masking a wince as her right knee screamed in protest. "Open it." She whispered.

Meg nodded and slowly undid the brown paper, cherishing the moment as long as she could. It revealed a small wooden box a pair of ballet shoes carved in the side painted a blushing pink. Meg turned it over and inspected the bottom knowing she would find her father's flourishing signature on the bottom claiming the piece as his. She stared in surprise as she heard a clink resound from the inside. Carefully she removed the lid and inside she found a small silver cross that rivaled the beauty of her mother's own gold one. Julienne looked down at Meg as tears leaked from the corner of her eyes and her daughter clutched the cross to her chest and sobs racked her small body.

"I-It i-is all my fault Mama! If I had not walked out onto the cliff! Oh Mama, I am so s- sorry!" Julienne shook her head firmly at Meg.

"Have I not taught you that the Lord works in mysterious ways? This is one of his ways, you will see my angel someday, and there will be a reason for this. It is not your fault; it was never your fault." She bent down to kiss her daughter's forehead as she nodded trying to believe that it was not her fault.

"Come here; let us put that necklace on you." Meg stood rigid and still watching the flames dance as her mother put on the necklace and sighed as the cold silver graced her neck. She felt a small grain of guilt lift off of her shoulders as the cross dipped low; it would take time to grow into it.

Julienne now opened the letter from Paris her stomach tightened in anxiety as she removed the letter from the envelope. Her eyes scanned the childish scrawl of the boy she had named Erik.

_Madame, _

_I write to congratulate you on your first child, Marguerite Giry, she must be grown into a small lady now at the age of seven if I am correct? The ballet rats still love to gossip about the best Prima Donna to grace these halls. It has been many years since our parting and I wish to apologize for the terms on which we parted, a childish tantrum possessed me. You must understand Julienne; you were and still are the only person to grace me with something akin to friendship. I still cling to the hope I will see you one day, if not perhaps I will see your daughter dancing upon the very stage you once did. I hope that the life you have chosen suits you if not there is an opening for a ballet teacher. Enclosed is a small token for your daughter, think of it as a late christening present._

_Your faithful servant,_

_Erik_

Julienne reached back into the envelope and retracted a beautiful silk ribbon; its color matched the sky and Meg's eyes. She smiled in spite of herself and gently brushed her daughter's hair together as they both marveled in the wondrous present that wound into her hair keeping the strands of hair from sticking to her wet cheeks.

"Is this from Papa too?" Meg asked her eyes shining with an endless amount of unshed tears. Julienne shook her head, "No, no this is a gift from an old friend named Erik."

Meg nodded her head and looked up to her mother, "Who is Erik?"

"Someone I knew when I was younger, before I even met your Papa. He was a child I helped once long ago in Paris." Julienne whispered.

"Mama, what will we do?" Meg asked, her eyes widened as she realized how terrified she was of the prospect.

"We will go to Paris." Julienne decided, "You will become a ballerina and I will teach, at the Opera House."

"Like Papa always wanted me to. I will work hard for Papa." Meg whispered her eyes slowly drawn to the roses which lay in a pool of sunlight.

"Yes Marguerite we will do it for Papa. Now help me over to the table, I need to write a few letters."

Meg dutifully became Julienne's cane as she hobbled over to the table, slowly drew a breath and began her letter to the Opera House manager, inquiring about the ballet teacher position.

It took only a week to get a welcoming reply and by that time the cottage had been sold to a newlywed couple who's happiness pained Julienne to see, for it reminded her so much of Philippe. They had held a small funeral for Philippe and had buried an empty casket in the graveyard and planted daisies around the headstone. Their meager belongings, a small trunk of clothes, three leather bound books, a pile of love letters tied together with a faded pink ribbon, a small satchel for Meg's doll and wooden box, and a picture of Philippe were packed into two trunks and placed upon a carriage bound for Paris. The tickets had been bought with the money from Philippe's small boat which had been bought by his first mate. Julienne did not look back as she stepped up into the carriage, clutching Meg's hand in her own tightly. Both mother and daughter sat in silence until Meg whispered, "Will we be ok Mama?"

"Yes Marguerite," Julienne replied, "you must always remember that you can do anything as long as the Lord's hand is upon your heart."

Meg placed a hand over her heart and clutched at her silver cross, "Papa's hand too?"

Julienne smiled, "Papa's hand too."

With that simple understanding Julienne and Meg came to the Opera House a place of memories, second chances, and dark secrets never meant to be spoken.

* * *

_Finally, I actually update! I'm so sorry about the long wait, for a couple of months I thought I had lost all work on this story when my computer crashed but luckily I located this story again and have been hard at work trying to make up for lost time. _

_I hope this chapter makes up for my absence, I'm working hard on the next few chapters and will update as soon as I am able to. I know it may seem too fortuitous to have Erik suddenly send a letter with a job position for Julienne but this is fanfiction and anything is possible and this chapter is really a filler so I can connect our two main character together in the next chapter. Yes, next chapter Erik and Meg finally, finally meet and will be interacting continously from then on. _

_Thank you for reading._

_-LifesDarkFire _


	7. Papa can you hear me?

**Disclaimer: **The words in italics in this chapter are borrowed from the song "Papa can you hear me?" as seen in Yentl performed by Barbra Streisand. Although when I wrote this story I listened to (and gained inspiration from) Michael Crawford's version from the album 'A touch of music in the night' and Meg speaks them in the story instead of singing them.

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**Chapter 7: Papa can you hear me?**

Meg was scared when she looked at the huge marble staircase that led to the place she must now call home. She wore her church dress a pale blue ensemble that was slightly worn but did not need mending, her hair was slightly tied back in the vibrant blue ribbon the friend called Erik had given her. The silver cross lay long on her neck and swung with every step she took. Her hand trembled in her mother's hand, "Do not be frightened Marguerite, this is our home now." Meg swallowed hard, nodded and tried to stop the trembling of her hand.

The pair were lead to the room that would be Julienne's by a stagehand who brusquely nodded in response to their thanks; he also showed them the ballerina dormitories where Meg would reside. She brushed imaginary lint off of the gray blanket that covered her bed and counted nineteen other similar ones. Her mother had told her to think of it as having a large amount of sisters but Meg felt her stomach clench as she remembered how the village children complained about their sisters stealing precious toys, letters, and knick knacks.

"Mama why can't I stay with you?" Meg pleaded.

"Because, you are now a student ballerina at the Opéra de Paris it is proper for students to live in the dormitories, I lived in them myself until I was Prima Ballerina."

Meg dolefully nodded her head but refused to leave any of her precious items out in the open in the dormitory instead she kept it locked away in her small trunk in her mother's room.

The days were long, her legs and feet would ache unendingly from the practices in which her mother's cane pounded out an unrelenting beat. The lessons and practices were long, lasting for hours at a time and it took all Meg had in her small body to keep from collapsing. She was the youngest of all the student ballerinas who lived and were taught at the opera house. She was seven while the others ranged from the ages of nine to eleven, Monsieur Lefèvre spoke his concern of Julienne pushing her small daughter to the brink of her physical ability but Julienne's only answer was a cold stare.

Julienne realized that she pushed Meg too hard sometimes, but it was the only way her daughter would smile. After Phillipe had died, so did a piece of Meg, that piece of her that would light up with laughter, would smile at the small and simple things of life and would glow with life. The only time Julienne saw a hint of this was when Meg danced, only when her small body was trembling and tears filled her eyes did Julienne see the ghost of the smile that once graced her cherub face. She never questioned why it made her daughter happy, for she heard Meg when she would unconsciously whisper "Papa" as she fiddled with the silver cross on her neck. The girl danced for her father, and that was enough, for now.

The nights were the longest. Meg would awake drenched in sweat clutching the sheets closely to her body as she fought back screams as the day her father died flashed vividly through her mind.

The fifth night this happened Meg crept into the hallway slowly feeling her way in the darkness that surrounded her. Her hand hit the cool metal of the stair railing and she breathed a sigh of relief, she had finally reached the stairs that lead to the roof. Meg followed the railing carefully as her eyes slowly adjusted to her surrounding darkness. She held her breath for she knew severe punishment awaited her if she was caught.

She stopped when her hand felt air at the end of the railing and she hesitantly reached out to test for the door, her hand clenched as she felt the cool metal of the door knob. She pulled it open quickly breathing in the deep and cool air of the outside world.

She danced across the roof of the Opera House as a light laugh briefly escaped from her upturned lips. The stars blinked down at her from the silky night sky and she stood transfixed for a moment trying to recall where Orion stood, the one constellation she remembered her father teaching her. Meg searched the sky desperately for the constellation and when it seemed futile she saw his belt, glittering joyfully above the lights of Paris and she smiled in triumph.

The cold air bit at Meg's hands, it brought her back to reality her sapphire eyes filled with tears that slowly spilled down her cherub cheeks.

"_Papa can you hear me?"_ she whispered to the silent night.

"_Papa can you see me_?" she slowly edged away from the door, her hands slowly encircling her silver amulet. Her slow shuffle stopped mid-step as she jumped in fear at a menacing shadow that loomed in her path.

"_Papa can you help me not be frightened?"_ Her small voice seemed to echo across the vast expanse of darkness that lay before her. She jumped as a warm breeze caressed her cheek and a hollow "yes_"_ vibrated in the air around her.

Meg glanced around fearfully at her surroundings but drew courage from the necklace that hung from her neck, if she went back to bed only nightmares would follow.

"_Looking at the skies I seem to see a million eyes, which ones are yours? Where are you now?" _Meg's small voice trembled as she gazed up into the stars.

"_The world is so much darker,"_ she whispered to the blinking stars, _"the wind is so much colder,_ _the world I see is so much bigger… now that I'm- now that I'm alone_." Her legs gave out beneath her and her small body landed hard onto the roof, it shook with untold sorrow as the tears she fought so hard to keep in came leaking out.

Beneath a gilded statue a shadowy figure gasped as he watched the small girl tumble into a heap, he watched helplessly as her sobs became louder amplified by the cold wind that surrounded him. His golden eyes flicked to the shadows surrounding her and made a decision of a lifetime, he stepped closer.

Erik slowly slid from the shadows that hid him, drawn by the girl's torturous sobs and the strange need to comfort her. He tried to be silent, to blend inconspicuously with the shadows but his limbs would not obey and they drew the girl's attention. She stared blindly into the darkness, as she tentavily reached out a small hand. "H-hello?" she called out.

Erik stood frozen, his cape swirled silently in the light breeze as he tried to calm his traitorous heart that seemed to echo across the distance between him and this small girl who stood bathed in the moonlight.

"Is anyone there?" Meg asked. When her only answer was silence she sat down upon the same spot she had collapsed only a few minutes ago.

"My name is Magueirte Giry." She looked back into the darkness and Erik's breath stopped short sure she had seen him.

"I am seven years old." She continued, and punctuated her statement by holding up seven fingers. "My mama and I came here more than a week ago, from Dieppe, she is the ballet instructor. She is the only one who calls me Maguirite, everyone else calls me Meg. You could, if you would just come out." She stared pointedly at the darkness.

Erik swallowed against the tightening of his throat and tried to force himself back into the shadows he had come from but felt himself drawn into the light of the moon, into the presence of a girl seven years younger than him, a girl who was Julienne's child, a girl who would let him call her Meg.

Meg smiled as the sound of shuffling came closer, somehow she did not feel as frightened as she first had and waited impatiently for the stranger to make their appearance.

Erik quickly combed a hand through his hair and adjusted his mask as he took one last breath for courage and walked out into the light waiting for cruel laughter or a harsh scream.

Meg did neither but simply sat studying him. Her eyes lingered for only a second on his strange mask and then settled on his golden eyes.

"I see you are a Venetian." Was the first thing she said to him.

Erik stood in shock for a moment, "A Venetian?"

Meg nodded decidedly, "Of course Monsieur, my Papa told me Venetian's always wear masks. He went to Venice once, and brought my mama back a beautiful mask. We had to sell it though." She raised her hands quickly to her eyes.

Erik nodded a frown replacing his hesitant smile as he realized she had begun crying again. "Your Papa, he is very special to you." He stated.

"He was," Meg whispered, her hand tugging at her cross.

Taking a small step forward Erik frowned, "Was? Has he passed away?"

Meg nodded again, a stifled sob escaping her throat. "I- I – Oh, it is all my fault monsieur! I only wanted to see what the ocean looked like since it was so quiet and then… then he died! I killed him."

Erik froze at the small girl's sudden confession; he did not know how to comfort her and was stunned by her sudden confession. "Meg," he said crouching down so he could see her small face. "Your Papa did not die because of you; no he gave his life for you so you may live."

Her tears seemed to slow down at his statement and she suddenly beamed at him. "Yes monsieur, I will try to think about it as you do."

Erik raised an eyebrow at her sudden change in emotions silently questioning the girl's sanity.

Meg's eyes went wide as she realized she had poured so much of her emotions out. "I'm sorry, I forgot my manners." She mumbled as she stuck out her hand. "You can call me Meg, and I will call you?"

"E-erik." The young boy stammered as he stuck out his own hand which was quickly grasped and shaken vigorously by the girl.

Meg looked up at the young man and paused in thought. "My mama has a friend named Erik," she said letting go of his gloved hand. "He lives in Paris, and he gave me this ribbon for my hair." Meg's blue eyes narrowed, "I bet you're him!"

Erik stood frozen at the accusation, she was most certainly Julienne's daughter, with her keen accusations and sudden mood changes, and that was the problem, Julienne. He remembered her promise of punishment if she heard of even a glimpse of him in the opera house Erik knew that promise would stand true even if it was her own daughter who saw him. So Erik did the first thing that came to him, he lied.

"I-I do not know your mother, you're mistaken." He said gruffly turning on his heel to leave. A small hand clutching his cloak stopped him.

"I may be young Erik, but I am not stupid." Meg replied fire burning deeply in her angelic eyes.

"I disagree, you are only seven Marguerite, barely even a child how can you not be stupid?" His heart tightened as a blush quickly ran up her neck to her cheeks.

"I was taught by my papa!" she shouted stomping her foot down in anger, "He taught me everything and I know you are my mama's friend Erik!"

Erik turned to her, "Prove it."

Meg looked him directly in the eye and nodded determinedly, "I will simply go ask her." She held his gaze a few seconds longer and ran across the roof to the door which she struggled briefly to open and disappeared into the darkness of the opera house.

"Mon Dieu, between Meg and Julienne I will surely die before the year is finished." Erik muttered into the darkness of the Parisian night sky.

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First I wold like to thank everyone for their reviews and story alerts, it made me so glad to see that this story has not been forgotten.

Well, this was the chapter long awaited for, the meeting of Erik and Meg. I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations, I waver between loving it and being completely unsure. From now on most, if not all chapter will have interaction between the two.

Thanks for reading!

-LifesDarkFire


	8. Questions

**Chapter 8: Questions **

"A great black hole serves as a nose that never grew." A young man whispered softly to the group of ballet girls who sat waiting for Madame Giry. He jumped suddenly, scaring a scream out of the girl next to him.

"Joseph Bouquet hold your tongue!" a voice thundered. The small troupe looked up to find Madame Giry on the stairs above them her gaze cold as she watched them. "Spinning foolish ghost stories to my students is unacceptable, is there not a place where you should be?" The boy nodded his eyes wide in fear and ran from her intense gaze.

"Madame, do you believe in the phantom of the opera?" a girl asked timidly.

"No, ghosts are not real and you should remember that. I will not have my students ruled by superstitious fears. Now begin your stretches." Julienne clapped her hands setting the girls in a rush to begin their daily stretches.

Julienne passed through the lines of petite dancers stretching and stopped before her daughter. "How are you Marguerite?" she asked her eyes carefully studying her daughter.

"Fine Madame." Was all she said as she lowered her eyes to the ground.

Julienne's eyes narrowed to slits, there was something wrong. "Come now Meg, surely you can tell your mama."

Meg shook her head vigorously as she concentrated on her silk clad feet. Julienne reached out and gently cupped Meg's chin forcing her to look up. "There is something wrong, look a tear." She brushed her index finger across her daughter's dark eyelashes catching the clear drop and held it up.

"Do you think I am stupid?" Meg asked abruptly. Her ivory hand shot upwards to ensnare her treacherous lips as she closed her eyes expecting her mother's rebuke. Julienne was silent as she gazed into her daughter's sapphire orbs.

"No, no I do not think you are stupid. I think you are one of the smartest people I know." Julienne assured as she pushed a stray hair behind Meg's ear. "Did someone tell you that you were?"

Meg shook her head swiftly as her eyes focused intently on the wooden floor beneath her, "No one Mama."

Julienne took a firm grip on Meg's chin forcing her blue eyes to meet hers, "Tell me." She commanded her voice low at the thought of someone harassing her daughter.

Meg's lips quivered as she tried to hold back her torrent of words that pressed upon her closed lips. "A boy." Was all that escaped.

Julienne's eyes narrowed until they were slits, her mind raced at those two simple words focusing solely on the word "boy." She immediately thought of the rapscallion Joseph Bouquet but a tiny voice nagged that it might be a boy she knew all too well.

Julienne went with her gut instinct, "Was it Joseph?" Meg whispered her answer "no." The tiny voice in the back of her mind began to shout and Julienne took the bait. "Was it… perhaps a boy named Erik?"

Meg's blonde head shot up quickly as her lips formed a small smile at the name Erik. "I knew it! The Venetian is Erik, the same person who gave me this bow!" Julienne clapped her hand over Meg's animated mouth quickly shushing her. The action brought attention to her from her other students who stopped their exercises and watched the pair curiously.

Julienne composed herself quickly and turned to her students, "Practice is over for the rest of the day." The announcement was met with exclamations of surprise and giggles as the girls flocked into groups to discuss how to waste the day away. "But, tomorrows practice with be twice as hard then." Julienne added her eyebrow arched as groans replaced the happier exclamations.

She took Meg's hand and quickly limped back to her room where they would discuss the matter in private.

Julienne slowly shut her door and turned to look at her daughter who struggled to contain her excitement at guessing the young boy's name.

"What does Erik look like?" Was her first question as she stood firmly in front of her daughter who sat on the small bed swinging her legs excitedly.

"Well he was tall," was Meg's first answer, "He had black hair, and was dressed like he was going to see an Opera, and he even had a cape!" Meg giggled at this and continued. "He must be very rich since his clothes looked very expensive the cape must have cost an enormous amount of money. Oh and he had the most amazing mask on!"

"He had a mask?" Julienne quickly interrupted her heart beat echoing in her ears. "His name was Erik, he had a mask and he was on the roof?"

Meg nodded, "He seemed nice at first."

"At first?" Julienne questioned.

"Oh yes, I had a nightmare and went up to the roof to view the stars and heard him shuffling about behind one of the statues." She paused trying to remember every exact detail. "I was feeling sad remembering papa and suddenly there he was. A venetian mama, I myself met a venetian! Well, we talked for awhile and he told me his name was Erik, when I asked if he was your Erik he said no but I knew he was lying and I was right." Meg grinned up into her mother's astonished face.

"Now you have not told me why or how Erik said you were stupid." Was all Julienne was able to say as she was still in shock.

"Oh." Meg said, "Well he said," she took a moment to scrunch up her face in a haughty expression, "You are only seven Marguerite, barely even a child how can you not be stupid?" She sighed and crossed her arms, "He's proving to be a difficult friend."

Julienne's eyebrows rose at the statement, "You are friends with him Maguerite?"

Meg just nodded her head, "Of course Mama, he may be a rude boy but that doesn't mean we can't be friends, isn't he your friend?"

"In a way, yes, but he can be very upset sometimes it might be best if you stay away from him." She reached out to stroke her daughter's hair but Meg pulled away from her hand.

"How mean mama! Everyone can get upset, why you are very scary when you get mad at one of your students but that does not mean I have to stay away from you. I am sure I can handle his outburst, besides that is what friends do and I will not give up on the first friend I have made in this place." She rose off of the bed and looked her straight in the eye daring her mother to forbid her from seeing her only friend.

Julienne gave up, her daughter would only find new ways to get to Erik, the only question that remained was would he accept her friendship?

Sighing she reached out to envelop Meg in a hug. "Of course my angel, just be careful I do not want you to be hurt by him… he has had a very trying life. Now Maguerite go back to the dormitories and study the bible passages I assigned you yesterday."

In a flash of blue and white Meg was gone and Julienne called out to the silence around her. "Erik? Erik I know you are listening I have heard of your many… exploits in the opera house do not hide from me now."

"Come down to the lake Julienne, we shall discuss my exploits where I am most comfortable." A voice thundered. She tried to find the source of the voice but there was no one at the door or in the room and Julienne felt dread pool in her stomach.

The corridor in which Julienne walked down was musty; cobwebs wrapped themselves around her outreached hands and cold seeped into her bones. She tried to recall Erik's directions, he said to follow the corridor to the stairs skip over the twenty-fourth step and she would find herself at the bottom on the shore of the lake. When it seemed as if the corridor would never end she came abruptly onto the staircase. Taking a deep breath she slowly began her careful descent downward her leg mutely protesting in pain when she stepped down to quickly or too far. She skipped over the twenty-fourth step and finally found herself on the edge of the underground lake, Julienne held her breath as she searched the shadows.

"This is not a time for childish games Erik, come out now." Julienne's voice echoed across the lake and was met by a sigh.

"Come now Julienne, won't you let me have any fun?" The voice became louder as he melted from the shadow before her. She held the candle she had brought to his face and studied the difference seven years had made. His golden eyes seemed darker, a cynical smile graced his lips and even at fourteen years he towered over Julienne.

"I have heard some things about you Erik." She said.

Erik looked down at her as his smile twisted and his golden eyes flashed, "Oh I am sure you have Madame, now tell me are they true?"

A tired sigh escaped her lips as she stared at the young man who had replaced the shy young boy she once knew. "I am sure you can confirm them for me Erik, hopefully someplace other than here."

He merely nodded and pointed to the small wooden boat that was banked on the shore. She took his offered arm and he helped her into the boat then pushed it swiftly onto the glassy lake. The only thing that broke the silence between them was the soft trickle of water as the oars sliced through it.

Julienne squinted as she tried to make out the features surrounding her in the lantern light. She turned back occasionally to glance at Erik who stared straight ahead his eyes perceiving everything in the darkness. Sighing once again Julienne was resigned to silence, until she let out a startled gasp as the boat hit shore.

"Welcome Madame, to my home." Erik said with a flourish as he waved his arm over a small area shrouded by sheets of linen and candles. It was the same place Julienne had been numerous times when she was a ballerina at the opera house except now it had more candles, expensive furnishings, and a great organ in the front room alone. She knew that if she were to search further she would find the same hallway with its numerous niches of rooms. "Sit, Julienne." Erik commanded.

She was taken aback by the demand but was grateful because her leg had begun to throb. "Erik did you," she stopped and shook her head, "did you meet my daughter?"

He turned around suddenly and froze his heart thrumming in his ears as the blood rushed to his face, he took a shaky breath preparing himself for the reprimand. "Yes, Madame." He winced and fought the urge to cover his ears. What he did not expect was utter silence.

"Julienne?" Erik frowned at how his voice trembled and tried again, "Julienne?"

"Thank you." She whispered. Erik's head shot up his eyes large in surprise, "What do you mean by thank you?" he questioned.

"I should be reprimanding you for calling her stupid, but thank you. You gave my angel her smile back." Julienne whispered as tears began to fall from her closed eyes.

Erik blushed profusely as he began to fumble around the candles knocking down sheet music and hitting the lid of his organ with his hand as he frantically searched for a handkerchief. He could barely handle crying children and here was a crying woman. He finally came upon one made of black silk and half ran to where Julienne sat handing her the handkerchief with trembling hands.

"You, Erik, you have made my daughter alive again. When Philippe died, oh she was like a porcelain doll now, now she can smile. Erik, please tell me you will always be her Venetian friend." Julienne asked her eyes glistening with tears.

Erik frowned, even in the candlelight he could see how much she had aged in such few short years, she was no longer the ballerina who had saved him, she now looked like the mother she was.

"You want me to be her friend? Madame you know my past do you really think it is smart to let us be friends? A monster and an angel?" Erik's voice was cold as he asked this.

Julienne smiled, a smile that only mother's know how to make. "Oui Erik, you both need each other. Tell me, would you not mind having a friend? She needs someone to watch over her Erik, she is young, please tell me you will help her."

Erik sighed as he raked his hand through his black hair, images of the young girl flashed though his mind and his heart constricted when he remembered her smiling face.

"I am afraid this will not end well Madame, she will grow curious." Erik resigned. He had no hope that he could attain friendship not with an angel such as Meg who did not question his actions but merely accepted them.

"She will," Julienne agreed. "but she knows what boundaries are. Please Erik, trust her, you will not regret it I promise. Besides, now that she knows about you, she will not let you go."

He sighed, "Fine." His outward appearance was cold but inside he contained the need to shout in happiness, for he could hope for something as strange and wonderful as friendship with the small blonde angel named Meg.

"Now we need to talk about your demand of twenty thousand francs a month." Julienne hissed. Erik now gave into the urge of covering his ears as Julienne began her tirade.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers, you truly inspire me to write! Also I would like to thank all of the readers who have added me to their favorites or story alerts, it means so much to me. I wanted to post chapter 8 now because finals are beginning tomorrow and I may not get a chance to upload anything until Thursday.

Thank you for reading!

-LifesDarkFire


	9. Opera Ghost

**Chapter 9: Opera Ghost **

Erik sighed and clutched his cape closer to his body for warmth, it had only been three days and the girl was already asking questions.

"Do you like snow?" she questioned, looking up at the dark sky above them.

"No." was his curt reply.

"You don't? Haven't you ever made a snowman or perhaps a snow angel? Caught snowflakes on your tongue or at least have watched it snowing while drinking hot chocolate by the fire?"

"No, no, and definitely not." He mumbled crossing his arms across his chest, "I hate the snow, and winter is always cold."

Meg shook her head in disbelief, "Well you must love summer when it's warm then!"

Erik raised an eyebrow at her question and shook his head, "Too hot then."

Meg lifted her arms in exasperation, "You are just too picky!"

"I am not picky," Erik argued back, "I just don't like the summer or the winter. I like spring." He added quickly knowing the girl would accuse him of hating every season.

His answer seemed to please her because she smiled and turned her attention back onto the night sky.

"Why are you even asking these questions?" Erik demanded as he sat down at the base of a statue a few feet away from her.

Meg looked over at him from where she was sitting, "Because this is what friends do, they ask each other questions and learn each other's dislikes and likes."

Erik sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Is it always this annoying to be your friend?"

Meg grinned, "Sometimes it's worse."

Erik sighed again, "I will ask the questions now, what is your favorite color?"

"Blue."

"Favorite flower?"

"Daisies." She answered.

"That explains your name then," when Meg gave him a quizzical look he continued, "it means daisy."

"What is your favorite color and flower?" she countered.

"Black and men aren't supposed to have favorite flowers." Erik stated.

Meg laughed, "You are hardly a man Erik!" Her laughter died as he glared at her.

"I won't take that sort of insult from a child! I have seen more than my fair share of horrors, some so vile that they would break a man's soul." He growled, he suddenly stood and began to slip into the shadows behind a statue when Meg stopped him.

"Erik! Wait, please." She hurried to where he was and stood looking up at him, "I'm sorry. I was just teasing you. Please, please come back, I did not mean to insult my only friend."

His hard gaze softened as he glanced at her pale hand on his arm, placing his own gloved hand on hers he followed her back into the soft moonlight.

"You must forgive me Marguerite, I tend to overreact occasionally."

Meg nodded, "I'm sorry too."

The pair sat in silence on the roof top, until Meg tried to break it, "Where do you live?"

Erik tensed ready to run back into the shadows, "That is something you must not know."

Meg grew silent again training her eyes on her hands; "Have you heard the story of the phantom of the opera?" she asked trying to alleviate the tension in the air.

Erik laughed bitterly, "Oh yes the phantom of the opera, the opera ghost. Yes I know that story well."

Meg took a deep breath kept her eyes on her hands as she stated, "You are the opera ghost."

Erik was stunned as he looked at the blonde child who sat beside him, how did she know?

"Why do you say that?" Erik demanded.

Meg kept her head bent not daring to look up, "Because I never see you during the day, we only meet on the roof, you hate the cold, only my mama knows about you, and you won't tell me where you live. So I assumed that you are a ghost and only my mama and I can see you because we saw papa die."

Erik sat in stunned silence until he began to laugh, his shoulders shook as the melodic sound erupted from his lips. "What does hating the cold have to do with me being a ghost?"

Meg smiled, "Well I imagine that ghosts are always cold, I would hate being cold all the time, and you are a ghost aren't you?"

Erik chuckled once again, "Meg you are almost correct, I am the phantom of the opera but I am no ghost."

Meg looked frustrated, "That makes no sense! Why let people think you are a ghost when you are not? Don't you get lonely?"

Erik nodded as his gaze rested on Meg's, "It is something I have grown accustomed to, not many people want to be friends with a ghost or … a monster."

Meg's blue eyes grew stormy as she suddenly stood up and made her way to where Erik sat watching the Parisian lights from his place in the shadows.

"I don't think you are a monster and you shouldn't think that you are one either, those people…those people are just jealous!" She knelt down in front of the young man and whispered, "They are jealous because they are not Venetian."

A smile broke through his reserve, "Thank you Meg."

The girl's smile broke into a grin as she clapped her hands in triumph, "Now to guess where you live."

Erik groaned into his hands as Meg suggested secret underground catacombs to the Palace of Versailles, as possible locations for his home.

* * *

**A/N**: Finally got around to updating today, updates should get more frequent as I've finished off another year of college. Originally this chapter was longer but I decided to cut it in half because of a scene change and I should be updating with the next part in a day or so.

Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed, read, favorited or alerted this story. I hope this chapter meets your expectations!

-LifesDarkFire


	10. Lessons and Dresses

**Chapter 10: Lessons & Dresses **

* * *

Of all the things Erik wanted to do, teaching Meg how to swim was not one of them, and yet he found himself in the freezing water of the lake teaching the small girl how to float on her back.

"I'm going to sink I know it!" Meg cried in fear as she thrashed in the shallow water.

Erik gritted his teeth as a small fist hit him squarely in the chest, "You were the one who wished to be taught, and Meg you will not sink."Erik released Meg and set her standing in the water.

"I un-wish it! Really Erik it's too cold to even be doing this, if mama finds out she will murder us."

Erik sighed, "I will make a deal with you Meg; if you learn to swim then I will show you where I live."

"Truly?" Meg asked her blue eyes sparkling with joy.

"Truly." Erik nodded, "Besides how else are you going to get a dry dress? I would think your mother would be suspicious if you skipped down the halls in the wet one you are wearing now."

Meg giggled, "Alright Erik you have a deal but" She brought a hand up to her chin in thought, "But the dress must be blue."

Erik groaned in frustration, "Why is it always the color blue?"

"Because it's the color of the sky, and the color of the ribbon you gave me." Meg giggled, "Who doesn't like the color of the sky?"

"I'm beginning to think it's because your eyes are colored blue too." Erik mused; brushing a stray lock of hair out of Meg's upturned face.

"That could be a small part of it." Meg relented; she turned away from him to edge further into the water and looked back over her shoulder, "Only a small part Erik."

He laughed as he followed her into the cold lake water, "Meg, just try to float on your back."

It seemed like ages to Meg, but soon Erik had her floating on her back, and showed how with a small movement of her legs and her arms she could move herself a bit in the water. "Erik!" she cried in enthusiasm, "Erik I'm swimming!"

He smiled from where he stood, "Are you? I hadn't noticed."

"I am. I truly am swimming!"

"Yes, you are Meg. We will keep on practicing and soon you'll be able to swim in your sleep. Now Meg, I promised you a blue dress and if we stay out here any longer we'll have a cold and a stern scolding in store from your mother."

"Promise I can come down again tomorrow?" Meg pleaded, slowly standing up in the water.

Erik sighed, "I promise."

"Good." Meg giggled, wading through the water over to Erik who was unrolling and buttoning his shirt sleeves, "Now to see where you live!"

Meg glanced over the edge of the rickety row boat and sighed. Erik looked up from where he was managing the oars and raised an eyebrow in inquiry, "What's the matter? You're going to see where I live, and receive a new dress so why are you sighing?"

"It's just…" she trailed off.

"Just?"

"Why do you have a row boat instead of a gondola? Don't all Venetian's have gondolas? Not that this isn't a nice boat." Meg quickly assured Erik.

He looked at her for a few moments, trying to suppress his laughter until it erupted and reverberated off of the stone walls of the underground lake. "Forgive me Meg for not having a gondola, I've found that this row boat has been sufficient." He watched as Meg blushed and spun her head toward the front of the boat quickly with a huff.

Sighing Erik raked a hand through his hair, "I did not mean to laugh Meg, I was just not prepared for that question, but I will look into purchasing a gondola."

Her head turned quickly back to him and a smile broke out on her face, "Truly Erik? You would do that for me?"

"Yes." Erik looked uneasily over the boat at the churning water and thought to himself, _"It seems I would do anything for you Meg." _

The boat hit the shore and began slowing as Erik leaped out of the boat and held his hand out to Meg. "You live here?"

"Yes," Erik brushed off a chair full of blank music sheets, "would you care to sit down?"

"How could I sit down at a time like this? Your house, it's beautiful Erik!"

He looked around at their surroundings in confusion, could the girl be talking about the hovel in which he lived? The only thing that was beautiful was the organ that sat grandly in the middle of hundreds of candles, the floor was littered with crumpled pages of music, and the one chair that presided in the area was covered in bottles of ink and parchments. The small corridor that led off to other niches and crevices he called rooms, was covered in silk sheets, and other linen. The place reminded Erik more of the gypsy camp Julienne had helped him escape from than a place of beauty.

"If you say so," he replied looking at Meg who had almost danced up to the organ and was gently stroking the keys in awe. "Come over here Meg, let me get you a dress."

He took her hand and led her down the corridor of silk and into a smaller, and darker room in which sat a cot and a broken wardrobe. "Broken things that were to be thrown out," Erik explained to Meg as he pointed at the wardrobe. "In there you will find some dresses that should fit you. When you are done just come out to where the organ is."

Erik left quickly, and Meg barely noticed for she had opened the doors to the wardrobe and was delighted by the sight of three blue dresses hung nicely in a row. She carefully tried each on, but was disappointed to see that there was no mirror in which to see how the dress looked. Finally after minutes of deliberation she settled upon a dress made entirely of light blue satin, which matched the ribbon she tied her hair up with and made her way back down the corridor to where she could hear dark notes being emitted from the organ.

Erik sat hunched over his organ furiously scribbling in notes with his right hand as he played different chords with his left; he only looked up when he heard his name being whispered cautiously by Meg.

"Erik?" she whispered again.

"Yes?" he turned in his seat and smiled at Meg who nervously clutched the cloth doorway in one hand and the skirt of her new dress in the other.

"Thank you for the dress." She stepped out from behind the cloth barrier, and twirled in a small circle in front of him. "I'll return it to you as soon as I can."

Erik waved his hand, "Those dresses are for you, keep it."

Meg opened her mouth to protest, but Erik gave her a stern look, "Does it look like I have anyone else to give those dresses to?"

"No."

"Then keep it." He rose up from the organ seat and walked to where Meg stood, "It suits you well."

Meg blushed at the compliment and smoothed down the skirt once again, "Thank you Erik."

"This is what friends do isn't it?"

"Yes," Meg giggled, "I suppose it is."

Erik smiled, "I think it is time you got back to your mother. I have a feeling she's been very worried about you."

"Oh yes," Meg paled, "she's going to be very upset with me."

"Not if we get you back in time." Erik grinned and grabbed Meg's hand, "I'll show you a shortcut."

* * *

**A/N: **I don't know if it would truly be the greatest idea to go swimming in that underground lake, but let's pretend that it's quite a good idea for the sake of the story.

Wow! 43 reviews! Let me just say thank you to all of my readers you all inspire me so much, I still can't wrap my mind around reaching 43 reviews on this story. Thank you all again, I'm still in shock to tell the truth. I hope this chapter will help continue to keep your attention and interest.

Next chapter is set to be exciting as Christine Daae is going to be making her first appearence.

Thank you once again for all of the support I can't express how much it means to me!


	11. Christine Daaé

**Chapter 11: Christine ****Daaé **

* * *

The shortcut that Erik led Meg down ended in the middle of the corridor leading to the ballerina's dormitory. It was poorly lit and the light that did shine cast monstrous shadows upon the walls and floorboards, she whirled back around in a flurry of blue satin to where Erik had stood but was accosted by stained wallpaper and flickering shadows. Placing a hand upon the wall she whispered, "Thank you Erik." Just as she was about to turn around and hurry back to the dormitory, a sharp voice startled her, "Marguerite Giry!"

Meg winced, took a deep breath and turned around, "Hello Mama."

Julienne Giry stood in the middle of the corridor, her right hand clenched tightly around the top of her cane while her left hand lay upon the shoulder of a small hooded figure. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of Meg in her new dress but said nothing.

"I have been looking for you Marguerite."

"I-I'm sorry mama I-"Meg stammered.

Julienne stopped her with a raised hand, "We shall discuss this matter later."

Meg bowed her head, "Yes mama."

"Now, Marguerite, I want to introduce you to a new member of our company." She placed her hand on the hooded figure's shoulder again and gave it a gentle push. "This is Christine Daaé."

The girl shuffled forward slowly, her eyes focused solely on her feet, her hands hidden within the folds of her cloak. When she was a few feet from Meg she lifted her head slowly until their eyes met and reluctantly lowered her hood down. A pale face with large almond eyes was revealed, and long curly hair cascaded down the young girl's shoulders. "It's-it's a p-pleasure to meet you." She whispered.

Meg's smile bloomed into a grin, "I have a feeling you will enjoy your life here."

The corner of Christine's mouth lifted up into an almost smile at Meg's enthusiasm. Julienne's eyes shifted from watching the girls when she heard a loud thump come from the wall next to her.

"Calm yourself Erik." She hissed to the air round her, "Jealousy is not an emotion to entertain."

Her shoulders slumped when she heard no more thumps against the wall but she did not want to take chances. "Marguerite, why don't we show Christine where the dormitories are?"

Placing a hand on Christine's shoulder she pushed the girl's forward to where squeals of delight and high pitched voices shrieked of laughter could be heard.

* * *

Erik raked a hand through his hair in frustration as he sunk down to a crouch, leaning heavily against the hidden doorway in the wall. "Meg," he whispered to the silent corridor, "don't leave me."

He closed his eyes as his fist clenched in anger, he had only known Meg for a short time and here was this snippet of a girl, trying to take away his friend. 'Friend', the word felt foreign to him, it didn't even feel right as he whispered the word into the room around him.

No, Meg would not leave him like her mother did, she would remain his friend. She would remain only his, this Christine Daae would be of no importance.

* * *

"This is where you'll sleep from now on." Meg chattered excitedly patting the newly mad bed next to hers. "You'll get a big trunk to lock your things in, but," Meg leaned forward to whisper in Christine's ear, "you can keep your important things in my mama's room like I do."

Christine nodded looking down at the red scarf she held clenched between her hands.

"Have you ever danced before?" Meg questioned, smoothing out a few wrinkles that were beginning to form in the skirt of her dress.

Christine blushed and shook her head slowly, "No, but when my Papa was alive I would sing while he played the violin."

"You sing!" Meg exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly, "How wonderful! Maybe when you're older you can apprentice under Carlotta, she's our new Prima Donna."

An older girl overheard Meg's suggestion and laughed, "That will never happen! Carlotta would rather eat a cockroach than take an apprentice."

"Carlotta hasn't heard Christine sing, she might consider it after she does." Meg countered.

The girl tossed her long braid over her shoulder and huffed, "I was just telling you the truth."

Meg watched the girl's retreating figure and then turned back to Christine who looked as if she was about to cry. "Don't listen to her." Meg got up and sat next to Christine, placing an arm around her shoulders, "She's just jealous because she's always wanted to be a singer but she's not very good at it. The manager told her she sounded like," Meg glanced around, "a toad!"

Christine smiled and Meg giggled, leaning forward she crossed her eyes and began to croak. Both girls were laughing loudly by the time they realized that Julienne stood in front of them, tapping her cane impatiently. Their laughter died quickly and they sat ramrod straight on the bed, hands folded neatly in their laps.

"Madame." Christine whispered.

Meg looked up and smiled, "Mama."

"Christine you asked me to show you the chapel we have, did you not?"

Christine bowed her head, "Yes, I did Madame."

Julienne nodded, "Good I will show you where it is now." She gave Meg a stern look, "Marguerite I still have matters to discuss with you. Go to my rooms and wait for me there."

Meg nodded solemnly, "Yes mama."

*Insert line break here*

Meg looked up from where she was stretching on the floor in her mother's room. She could see Erik standing silently in the shadows, "Hello Erik." She greeted, bending down from the waist across her legs to reach her toes.

"Meg," he slipped out from the shadows and Meg looked up, surprised to find him in only his shirtsleeves. "I see you've gained a new acquaintance."

"Oh, yes." Meg grinned, "Her name's Christine Daaé! She has a bed right next to mine, and did you know? She sings."

Erik's face darkened at Meg's happy chatter, "I see."

She looked up and frowned at the expression he wore and scrambled upwards to her feet, "Erik? What's wrong?" she reached out to lay her hand upon his shoulder but he stepped backwards.

"You're going to leave me just like your mother did."

"How can you say that Erik?" Meg shook her head vigorously, "I won't leave you, you are my friend."

"B-but what about that Daaé girl? You've been very friendly with her."

"Because Erik, she's my friend too." She stood on the tips of her toes and laid a hand on his shoulder, "It is possible to have more than one friend."

He glanced at the small hand on his shoulder and at the girl who stood on her tip toes to place it there and gave a hesitant smile. Meg rocked back down on her heels again and glanced worriedly at the door. "You should go now Erik, I have a feeling that mama isn't happy with either of us."

Erik's eyes widened as his lips pressed tightly together, "I've already had my weekly lecture."

"Then I suggest you go." Meg hissed pushing him towards the door. He couldn't help but smile when he felt her small hands at his back.

Julienne arrived moments after Erik disappeared into the shadows; she pressed a few fingers to her temple as she sat down on her favorite chair. Meg crossed her legs and sat before her mother, her eyes focused on the hair she had entangled around her fingers in worry.

"Marguerite," Julienne sighed as she leaned forward to stroke the top of her daughters head. "I am glad that you and Christine have been getting along but there are a few… rules I wish for you to follow."

Meg looked up from her fingers, her blue eyes troubled, "Rules mama?"

"Rules." Julienne repeated, "I know that Erik is your friend and that he dotes on you." She paused to look down at Meg's dress.

Meg blushed and carefully smoothed the silk beneath her fingertips.

"But," Julienne continued, her voice sharp, drawing Meg's attention back to her, "You must keep your friendship a secret for obvious reasons, even from Christine."

"Even from Christi-"

Julienne cut her off swiftly, "Even from Christine. If Erik was found he would face dire consequences, you would never see him again. You do not want that do you?"

"No!" Meg cried wide eyed, "I won't tell anyone. Not a soul."

Julienne smiled as she rocked forward and brushed away a stray lock of hair that fell against Meg's cheek. "Now, explain to me how you received that new dress and why your hair is slightly damp."

Meg flushed as she began to stammer through her story of how she had persuaded Erik to teach her how to swim.

* * *

**A/N: **Let me apologize for taking such a long time to upload this chapter, real life got in the way with the adoption of a new puppy, family drama and belated spring cleaning. Thank you to all of my readers for your support, your reviews urging me to update truly did encourage me to squeeze some time in for the writing of this story. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations!

With the addition of Christine to the story I have to add a caution that I may spell her name wrong since I'm used to spelling Christine without the "h" so forgive me if I slip and overlook it.

Thank you again to all of my readers and reviewers!


	12. Choices

**Chapter 12: Choices **

* * *

"You should hear Christine sing Erik!" Meg bent over from where she sat upon a small stool and fixed her dress, "I think she sings even better than Carlotta."

"Anyone can sing better than Carlotta." Erik murmured from where he sat in front of Meg, quickly sketching a rough outline of her profile. She moved to push back a lock of hair but Erik stopped her, "Keep moving like that and the picture will be ruined." He tilted his head back as he studied the girl, "then what will we give your mother for her birthday?"

Meg sighed impatiently, "Flowers, chocolates, anything other than a picture."

"What? Don't you like my drawings?"

"Of course I like your drawings." Meg sighed, her blue eyes rolling in exasperation, "I just don't like being the subject of your drawings. It's so boring!"

"Patience is a virtue," Erik leaned back in his seat and rolled his shoulders, working out the kinks in them, "that you clearly do not have." Folding his sketchbook Erik sighed, "Of course it is expected for a child of your age."

"Why!" Meg exclaimed as she flushed bright red, she sat up straight, planted her feet hard upon the ground and smiled sweetly at Erik, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Smirking Erik flipped open his sketchbook, took a long look at Meg and began making thick heavy strokes, looking up occasionally to assess the fragile line of her cheekbone, or the featherlike quality of her eyelashes.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Meg, too preoccupied with the thought of staying perfectly still to think of anything to say and Erik too concerned with drawing, until Meg sighed loudly, "Erik how much longer do we have to do this?"

"Until I'm finished."

"What kind of response is that?" Meg huffed as she rolled her eyes in frustration.

Without looking up Erik smirked, "It's an answer."

"Well, I don't have all day; I promised Christine I'd take her to the roof today."

The piece of charcoal Erik held between his fingers split into two, he looked down in surprise at the pieces scattered upon the paper and swiftly brushed off the pieces slamming his sketchbook shut. "You're going to take her to the roof?" Erik frowned, "Why?"

Meg, too focused on stretching her aching muscles, didn't see the work of worry etched upon Erik's features and merely shrugged at his question. "She wanted to see all of Paris, where better to show her than the roof?"

"But, the roof is our," he clenched his fists as he floundered for a word, "place."

"Yes," Meg smiled, "but that doesn't mean I can't show Christine it too."

His mouth twisting into a frown Erik blurted out, "I don't think you should."

Meg looked puzzled, "Erik, it's just Christine. I won't tell her about you." She stepped closer to him and smiled, "You don't have to worry."

He stepped back from her, shaking his head, "I don't like you spending time with her."

"Erik, she's my friend. Remember, I told you, it's possible to have more than one friend."

"But," Erik's voice began to rise, "you're taking her to our place. You're taking her to the roof."

"Yes," Meg nodded impatiently, "we'll only be up there for a few minutes. Just to show her the view. Stop acting so childish!"

"I'm acting childish?!" Erik crossed his arms, "I don't see how I am."

"By throwing a tantrum about me being friends with Christine!" Meg cried, throwing her hands in the air.

"I'm just looking out for what's best for you!" He yelled back, his hands clenching at his sides, "I-"he looked away then back at Meg, "I forbid you to see her!"

Meg's eyes widened, "What?" she whispered taking a step closer to Erik. "You can't possibly mean that."

"I do." Erik's voice was low, and dangerous, "You must choose, her or me."

Tears welled up in Meg's eyes, "Erik, don't say that." She shook her head, "Come now, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Choose!" he thundered, his golden eyes flashing violently.

"No," Meg shook her head, "I won't let you order me about. I won't choose." She stepped closer to Erik, and placed her hand on his arm, "I will show you it is possible to have more than one friend."

"If you won't choose then I don't see any other way." Erik stepped back and watched as Meg's hand fell from his arm, "I don't wish to be your friend anymore Marguerite Giry."

"No! Erik!" She stepped forward, "Please."

"No," Erik's frown deepened, "I think it's time that you left."

"Fine." Meg retorted, her lips thinning as she held her head high, "I think so too."

They both sat in stony silence on the boat ride back, the oars lapping upon the water the only sound that came between them. Meg had crossed her arms and was picking at her dress, another silk creation given to her from Erik; she threw a few cautious glances toward him sighing loudly when they made eye contact.

As soon as the boat hit the shore Meg scrambled out of it although her foot caught on the side of the boat and sent her falling into the water. She landed on her back with a small splash, the ripples of water thoroughly soaking her dress. Erik had leapt out of the boat and was suddenly beside her, his hands nervously hovering over her.

"Meg! Are you hurt?"

Ignoring Erik's outstretched hand and letting out a small hiss of pain Meg slowly rose to her feet. She looked down at her dress and sighed again, the wonderful silk was ruined beyond repair and she was drenched from the top of her head to her feet.

"I'm fine." Meg sighed, as wrung excess water out of her hair. "Just… just take me to my Mama." She bit her lip and looked up at Erik, tears glistening in her eyes. "Please, Erik."

Nodding in stunned silence Erik offered her his arm; she glanced at it, hesitating only a moment before she shook her head quickly and began to walk towards the darkened corridor Erik so often lead her through. They spent the rest of their journey in mutual silence again as Meg occasionally wiped at her eyes with a clenched fist and Erik winced as he watched her repeat the action, frequently.

When they had finally reached her mother's rooms, Meg tapped gently on the door, "Mama?" The door cracked open and her mother's face appeared, etched with worry, "Marguerite? What is it? Are you hurt?" She opened her door further and ushered the girl inside, keeping a firm hand upon her shoulder.

"Marguerite!" Julienne exclaimed as Meg barreled into her mother, her arms wrapping instinctively around her mother's waist, sobs racking her body. "Marguerite, darling, what is the matter?" Julienne whispered as she gently smoothed the girl's wet hair, "Why are you wet?"

"Oh, mama!" Meg cried, releasing her mother from her grasp as she slowly made her way to the bed. "Erik and I had a terrible fight."

Julienne rose a questioning eyebrow, "You've had your," she paused trying to find the right word, "squabbles before. I'm sure you will both be friends again in the morning. Now," Julienne pulled at Meg's dress, "How did this get ruined?"

"I fell getting out of the boat." Meg quickly responded, "But that's not important mama because this fight, it was different."

Julienne sighed as she sat down next to Meg and wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders, "How was it different?" Letting out a shaky sigh Meg recounted her fight with Erik as tears silently fell from her eyes.

"How could he say that mama?" Meg sighed, wiping at her eyes, "He…Erik," Meg huffed as she crossed her arms, "He's being foolish!"

Julienne smiled at her daughter as the girl got up from where she had sat upon the bed during her retelling and paced across the room, arms crossed muttering about how Erik was being foolish. "Marguerite, come here."

Meg didn't hear her mother as she paced across the room one more time fueled by her anger at Erik, "He just doesn't understand." Meg shook her head in disapproval, "I'll make him understand!" Nodding she headed for the door determined to find Erik in order to make him understand that she would not stop being friends with either Christine or him when Julienne stomped her cane upon the ground and shouted, "Marguerite!"

Turning from where she stood by the door Meg looked up, finally realizing her mother had called her name, "Marguerite my child." Julienne sighed, "Perhaps it is best if you give Erik some space, some time to sort his feelings out."

Frowning Meg glanced from her mother back to the door, "But, mama…" she trailed off as Julienne raised an eyebrow. Seeing her mother's expression Meg sighed, "How long should I wait?"

"Wait until he is ready to come to you," Julienne gave a small smile, "he may be older than you but he is still a child in many ways."

Meg rolled her eyes and nodded in agreement, "He just doesn't understand mama, is it so bad to have two friends?"

"No, Marguerite," Julienne smiled and held her arms out, "now come here, we have to get you into dry clothes before you catch a cold."

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**A/N: **It's been quite awhile but I swear I have not forgotten about this story! I've been swamped with computer problems and real life problems but I've returned to this story as excited as ever.

Chapter 13 should be going up, in a week or so if all goes well. Thank you for all of my reviewers and readers encouraging me to continue onwards. I hope you like this chapter.


	13. Angel of Music

**Chapter 13: Angel of Music **

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Erik awoke with a start from his light doze as footsteps upon stone echoed in the small chapel area, leaning forward from where he sat in his hiding spot behind a painted screen of an angel he searched through the shadows to see who it was. His heart clenched at the sight of Meg rounding the corner, a small smile tugging the edges of her lips upward as she set a small candle upon a pew to light the way. It had only been two weeks since their fight but for Erik it had seemed an eternity. She motioned to her companion as her smile grew, "Don't be frightened Christine." Meg reached out and grabbed the younger girl's hand, "You're safe. See," she pointed to the candle she had placed on the pew, "will that be enough?"

Christine slowly nodded her head as she stepped closer to the light of the candle and looked ahead at the flickering light of the other candles in the chapel. "This will be fine Meg."

"Are you sure?" Meg brushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear, "I could stay if you like."

"No, go Meg, I've already have gotten you in enough trouble with your mother." Christine whispered as she picked up the candle and held it close.

Meg gave her a small smile and nodded, "You know where to find me," She paused, glancing quickly towards Erik's hiding place, "if you ever need me."

Erik's heart lurched in his chest as he reached out with his hand, his lips forming Meg's name until he remembered where he was and why they had not spoken for two weeks. Upon remembering he then settled back into the darkness as he watched Meg send one last look towards his spot, his ears perking up when he heard her half whispered, "Erik."

Fighting the urge to run after Meg, Erik turned his attention to Christine, who was slowly approaching the small memorial candles. She stopped before one and carefully lit it, pausing to gently touch the photograph with the edge of her finger as she whispered, "Father."

Looking around Christine took a small breath, edged closer to the candles and slowly lit one. "Father," she whispered again as a tear trailed down her cheek.

Erik pressed closer to the screen that concealed his hiding place and swallowed nervously, he was so close. So close to find a way to break the girl, and regain his title as Meg's only friend. He sat back and could almost taste victory on the tip of his tongue when, the girl began to sing.

It was a simple melody, one that tickled the back of his memory. It was a lullaby that mother's sang their children to sleep to at night, and it was the most beautiful song Erik had ever heard.

The girl sang, in her innocent voice, softly at first gently rising until a tremendous crescendo:

"_Golden slumbers kiss your eyes._

_Smiles await you when you rise._

_Sleep, _

_Pretty Baby, _

_Do not cry. _

_And I will sing a lullaby._

_Care you know not,_

_Therefore sleep, _

_While over you a watch I'll keep._

_Sleep, _

_Pretty Darling, _

_Do not cry, _

_And I will sing a lullaby." _

By the time the last note hung in the air, tears ran freely down Erik's cheeks, this voice. Her voice was the one that haunted him at night, was the voice his music needed to become truly alive. Countless scores that lay littered across his organ, his bed, his many rooms and they existed for her, for the sole reason that she would sing them. Holding his breath he waited, debated making his presence known, demanding that he teach the girl how to sing properly so that she could reach her full potential.

But, before Erik could make a decision the girl collapsed into a heap, sobbing as she reached upwards for the picture of her father. "Father," she gasped, "father you promised you'd send me the angel of music!"

His eyes narrowed in speculation, 'angel of music' Erik thought. The girl wanted an angel? Straightening from where he sat Erik cupped his hands around his mouth, cleared his throat noiselessly, and cautiously sung into the empty air surrounding him and the girl, "I am your angel of music."

Christine looked upwards, her eyes glossy with unshed tears, "Angel!" She cried, her small hands reaching outwards in every direction, "Angel, please," her voice cracked, "guide me. Tell me what I must do."

Erik smiled from where he was hidden; he would mold this girl, this Christine Daaé into his own angel of music, for it could only be an angel who sung his masterpieces, his magnum opus. Cupping his hands over his mouth once more Erik began to sing once again, and Christine, small child as she was, obeyed every order.

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Meg tossed restlessly in her bed, the sheets were too itchy and the air around her thrummed with the snores and sighs of a dozen other girls. Turning over on her side once again she had just begun to drift asleep when she heard soft footsteps pad to the bed next to her and the bright glare of a lit candle accosted her eyes.

"Wh-" Meg mumbled, rubbing at her eyes, "Who is that?"

"Sh!" Christine hissed, her hands fluttering nervously, "Go back to bed Meg."

"Christine!" She gasped, hurriedly sitting upright in bed, her long hair spilling around her shoulders as the ribbon she had tied around it fluttered down upon her pillow. "Why are you out of bed so late?"

Looking around nervously Christine leaned close to Meg, "I was with an angel Meg." She whispered excitedly, "My father promised to send me an angel of music when he died and my angel has appeared!"

"An-an Angel?" Meg questioned, "Christine, it was probably just a dream. Come now, you need your sleep."

"No Meg!" Christine reached out and grasped Meg's hands.

She gasped, "Christine your hands are ice cold!"

But the girl wouldn't listen, "No Meg, my angel truly has come. But, for my sake please don't tell anyone. I swore to him I would not speak a word. If I do," Christine paused, her eyes filling with tears, "he will leave me forever."

Meg frowned, but gently extracted her hands from Christine's, "I…promise." She sighed, "Now go to bed Christine."

She jumped into bed, giving Meg one last grin before she blew out the candle she had placed on the small stool between their beds. Meg gathered her hair back up and quickly retied her ribbon before turning on her other side, worry knotted her stomach as the last thing she whispered into the dark air was, "Oh Erik."

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**A/N: **Better late than never? Can I say thank you to all of my readers? 70 Reviews! I still have to pinch myself to believe this story has gotten so much attention and love! Thank you, I hope you'll have the patience to stick it out to the end.

Now we see how Erik really becomes Christine's "Angel of Music". Next chapter will have Meg back in as the focus.


	14. Jealousy

**Chapter 14: Jealousy**

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Christine looked up from where she was clearing the last drops of soup from her plate with a piece of hard bread, "Meg, where are you going?"

Meg paused from where she had stood up from her stool and looked down at Christine, "I just-" she stuttered hiding her hands which automatically had clenched into fists in the folds of her skirt. "I just was going to see my mama."

"I'll go with you!" Christine giggled her smile turning into a grin as she dropped the piece of bread on her plate forgotten and began to stand from her own stool.

"No!" Meg rushed out flustered, waving her hands in front of Christine, "No, you stay here you still have some bread left. I'll be back soon I'm just not feeling well." She pretended to cough for emphasis but was taken off guard when her pretend cough turned into a real coughing fit that shook her shoulders and left her light headed.

Christine tilted her head concern suddenly flashing across her face, "I should really go with you."

Clenching her dress in her clammy fists Meg stomped her foot suddenly, anger flashing in her eyes, "Stay here!"

"Meg," Christine whispered flinching at the girl's sudden outburst.

Sighing Meg closed her eyes and shook her head, "I'm sorry Christine, my head just hurts I didn't mean to take it out on you."

Picking up the forgotten piece of bread Christine picked at it nodding, as a few tears escaping her lowered eyes, "It's just it seems like you've been avoiding me for the past week."

Sitting back on her stool Meg leaned against the girl and wiped at her tears with the edge of her napkin, "I just haven't wanted to get you sick silly," Meg admonished realizing she was taking out her anger on her friend, "you just got here a few weeks ago it wouldn't be fun if you were laid up in bed all day. I'm sorry I'm being so crabby. Besides all I do after dinner is just sip on hot chocolate and sit in front of the fire, it's hardly exciting at all."

"Hot chocolate does sound good," Christine mumbled.

"And once I'm all better we can have some together ok?" Meg nodded at Christine who smiled up at her again and nodded enthusiastically.

"Get better soon then Meg!"

Shooting up from the stool Meg nodded, "Once I'm better." She made sure Christine was thoroughly distracted by one of the other girls before she slipped off into the shadows. She began to walk fast, pausing only briefly in front of her mother's door before hurrying off to the stairs to the roof. Picking up her cloak where she had hid it the other day she quickly clasped it over her shoulders and raced up the stairs gasping as she threw open the door and was blasted by the chill of the night air.

Coughing into her hand Meg clutched her cloak up around her neck a bit higher and made her way to her favorite spot, the spot where she had first met Erik. After a cursory glance in the darkening shadows she sat down with a sigh, pushing her knees up against her chest she wrapped her arms around them and huddled inside herself for body warmth as another annoying cough racked her body.

It had been three weeks since she and Erik had fought with each other, three weeks and he had still not come to her. So each night for the past week she had come to the roof in the vain hope that he would be there waiting for her in the shadows. She would stay up there for hours memorizing the patterns of the stars and watching as Paris slowly came to life in the darkening twilight. Meg still wondered how she had not been caught by her mother or Christine, she had spun a fragile web of lies for both of them a simplistic thing that was bound to be caught upon soon. Shivering as another breeze of cold wind whispered past her Meg thought of how close she had been to getting caught by Christine, she had been uncharacteristically abrupt with her friend and almost regretted it now…almost.

Her stomach slowly began to churn as thoughts of jealousy slipped into her mind at the memory of secrets that had revealed themselves just a few days prior. It had been late at night when Meg had been jarred awake by another nightmare that left her in a cold sweat and was getting out of bed for a glass of water from the nearby pitcher when she heard Christine whispering to someone.

Slightly alarmed Meg laid still on her bed, scooting closer to her right where Christine's bed was located and strained her ears to listen.

"Angel? Is my father…is he happy Angel?" Christine whispered into the silence.

Meg nervously chewed her bottom lip as she waited for her suspicions to be confirmed and nearly cried out when a melodic voice softly chuckled, "Yes, Christine your father is very happy and proud of you my child."

Pulling up the covers and pretending to shift to lay on her other side Meg buried her head into her pillow and clutched the blanket up to her mouth to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. She knew that laugh, and she suddenly remembered fondly how Erik would past rainy days by showing her how he could throw his voice into different corners of the room from one side to the other, from the thundering of an organ bouncing off all the walls to a hushed whisper tickling the air by her ear. It was true then Erik had become Christine's supposed 'angel of music', Meg fought at the tears that kept coming, he had chosen Christine over her.

Another coughing fit brought Meg out of her reverie and she shook her limbs to gain some warmth back into them. She had come to the most obvious conclusion when she had heard Erik whispering to Christine, if he believed that people could only have one friend he had made his decision then. Meg let her head fall down upon her arms; she was fine with his decision, completely fine. If Erik was stubborn enough to only believe in solitary friends then she didn't need him.

"I don't need you." Meg whispered to the air defiantly, "Just watch me."

She nodded, her head still on her arms as she willed herself to get to her feet and leave the roof entirely and give up on the last thread of hope that maybe, maybe he'd come to her there. That maybe he'd slam the door open and run breathlessly over to her calling, 'Meg!...Meg!' She smiled to herself, if she listened hard enough she could almost hear it, she could almost hear his voice echoing over the wind that whipped her cloak around her body.

Meg smiled as someone called out her name in anguish and the world went dark.

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**A/N: **I do believe that is called a cliff hanger...

Next chapter will be longer to make up for this one. I had to rewrite this chapter over but I'm satisfied on where it ended up, I hope you are too. We had to see a jealous Meg eventually and I've decided for her to know all along that Erik is Christine's angel, it will come in to play in later chapters. Thank you for all of the reviews! I'm still in shock at what an amazing response this story has gotten.


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